Only Us Two
by Justanothersinger
Summary: 'There were several occasions which England found himself in where those kind of situations made him want to either turn back and run away as quickly as he could or just sink into the floor and disappear off the face of the Earth. Like that time where he kept sleeping around with random strangers because fuck knows why.' USUK Doppleganger AU Part 1 of Poor Little Daydreamer.


Only Us Two

A Hetalia fanfiction

There were several occasions which England found himself in where those kind of situations made him want to either turn back and run away as quickly as he could or just sink into the floor and disappear off the face of the Earth. Depending on the level of societal backlash and/or mortification.

All of which involved his decisions which had turned out badly for him. Yes, even he had second doubts about his decision-making. Like that time he accidentally burned down his house when he first started cooking. Or that time he kept putting off signing papers because he didn't feel like it.

Or that time where he kept sleeping around with random strangers because fuck knows why.

Ok, the last one he realised was much too wearing on him, mentally as well as...physically. Fine. That was why he stopped. He even stopped hanging out in bars late.

...So why was he here again?

He looks out of the corner of his eye and sees a bare back next to him. Sheets draped lazily over his hips-it was a man's back no doubt about it, England thinks with a weary sigh-his torso bare. And what a lovely torso it was.

...His taste had changed to that extent...huh. Those arms looked strong.

And strong those arms were. Not as much as compared to a superpower but they were strong.

Strong.

Like him.

 _Fuck, it's too early in the morning for this._

But he needed to leave before-

"Up already?" _Shit._

England makes a show of rubbing his eyes, making it look like he just woke up. He turns to the side-

And whatever he was about to say dies in his throat when he sees that man's face.

"Didn't know you still had that much energy in you." Alfred says, that same cocky smirk on his face.

"A-!" England's voice is hoarse, the name stuck in his throat. He falls back and suddenly the bed wasn't under his hands and-

"You know, I don't really pride myself on my looks all that much", Alfred says, leaning over the edge of the bed, "But I don't think I'm that ugly."

"You...! You're-?!"

"Still in dreamland there, stranger?"

A dream? Yes, it has to be.

Because there's no way that he'd slept with America. No way.

"...Stranger?"

"Mm? Oh, yeah." Alfred's eyes widened, as if he realised something, "Right. You think I'm your Alfred, right?"

"My..."

"The Alfred that you know."

And that's all to make England remember.

The taste of beer on his tongue and the warmth of hands under his shirt.

The haze in his brain that was far too familiar. He'd drank too much. Why? America.

Had he been annoying him that much? He'd said something. England can't remember what, but...

His body feels cold. His heart hurts.

He'd drank too much and then...

"You looked hurt when you saw me." Alfred said, "To be fair, I wasn't expecting to see you either."

Yeah, because...that wasn't America.

It was just a person that looked like him.

England had heard of this before. When new countries were formed, they took on a physical form. First as children and if they'd sufficiently developed enough, adults. They had the appearance characteristics of their inhabitants and this usually meant that they were able to blend in with their citizens.

And this also led to the possibility of a completely normal human doppelgänger.

He even had the same human name as him. England didn't even think that was possible.

"It's really strange. You look just like him."

"Arthur?" England tries. And the expression on Alfred's face morphs into one of sincere apology.

"Yeah."

"It's not like you could have predicted this, though." I should have.

But why that day? Why that same day as when America said-

"You look just like him. The guy that broke my heart."

"...Likewise."

Alfred reaches out. England allows him to touch his cheek.

When they kiss, there's dread in his gut and hope in his heart.

And he feels like crying.

"You said yesterday this was like licking each other's wounds." Alfred says softly, "I think that might not be so bad for now."

"Me neither."

It's not like they had anyone else who cared about this.

A thumb on England's cheek. Gentle. Their kisses grow deeper.

His hands start to wander.

And England shuts his eyes.

 _I loved you._

Something he would never admit.

And now he never will.

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Somewhere, in the middle of the night.

America opens his eyes.

He sits up in bed with a groan, rubs his face.

But there was no-one there.

Alone, all alone, America asks out loud to the empty room. Calls out to the person he thought he heard.

"England?"

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 **If I remember right, I posted this up while on vacation so the entirety of it was typed up on my iPad**

 **which is actually standard for me but I had to deal with wonky wifi on top of everything else eh**

 **which is why it looks weird**

 **oh well I hope you liked it!**

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